Mother & Son Have Oral Sex Ch. 06

There are no underage characters in this story. All characters portrayed are over 18-years-old. This story directly relates to my previous story, Mom's First, Blind, Internet Date.

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Mother & Son Have Oral Sex, Ch. 06

Emma tells her son what sexually happened with Vincent on her blind date.

Continued from Chapter 05:

Tonight, with her clothes a disheveled mess was the most he had ever seen of his mother's hot body. Other than installing a small camera in her bedroom and/or in the bathroom, he wondered how else he could see more of his mother in all manner of undress. While hoping to see more of his mother when she was wearing a short skirt and a low cut top, he even thought about tickling her. With his mother so ticklish, he imagined her rolling around on the couch or on the floor while exposing her panties and bra to his incestuous, horny eyes.

'How hot would that be? That would be so hot to watch my mother unintentionally expose her underwear clad body to me while I unmercifully tickled her,' he thought while starting to get an erection.

No doubt, with his mother so ticklish, if he tickled her, he'd see a lot. He imagined her skirt climbing to her crotch and her top falling open. He couldn't count how many times he had masturbated over imagining seeing something of his mother that he shouldn't see while tickling her. He couldn't count how many sexual fantasies he had of seeing his mother in her bra and panties, topless, and/or naked. His favorite sexual fantasy was masturbating himself while imagining his mother stroking him, sucking him, and/or fucking him. Now, he wondered if she stroked, sucked, and/or fucked her blind date tonight.

Yet, in the way he had read so very many mother and son incest stories online, he knew that his mother would never dream of having sex with him never mind flashing him up skirts or down blouses. With his mother morally modest, she wasn't a slut, never mind her being an incestuous whore. Sadly, unfortunately, and depressingly, with his mother not a whore nor even a slut, and not very sexual, she wasn't like that at all. No doubt, if she was forced and had to make a choice, she'd rather have gangbang sex with a bunch of bad bikers than to have incestuous sex with him.

"What's it going to be Emma?" Michael imagined the leader of the biker gang giving his mother an ultimatum. "Either you have sex with your son while we all watch or you have gangbang sex with our entire motorcycle club, The Motherfuckers?"

As if trying to decided what to do, Michael imagined his mother looking from him to look at the motorcycle club before returning her focused stare to him.

"Don't worry, Michael," he imagined his mother saying. "Rather than scarring you for life by having incestuous sex with you, I'm going to fuck and suck this gang of bikers. Go ahead. I'm ready for you to strip me naked only not in front of my son please. I don't want him to see his mother being so nakedly violated. After you take my son in another room, I'll fuck and suck all of you one at a time or all together."

He'd be lying if he denied that he wouldn't love to watch his mother have gangbang sex with a bunch of bad bikers. Yet, in the same way that he wouldn't want to watch his mother have gangbang sex, he'd be lying if he denied that he'd rather his mother pick him to have sex with over her having sex with the motorcycle gang. Just as his mother never had sex with anyone but with his father, she'd never have gangbang sex with a bad bunch of bikers or with anyone, forget about her having incestuous sex with him. Obviously, in the way she wasn't sexual at all, he'd be the last man on Earth that his mother would sexually want.

Even though he wondered what his mother looked like topless and/or naked, he was more curious what his mother was like in bed. It was too bad for him that she was too modestly moral to have forbidden, incestuous sex with him. Alas with her not with any man since she divorced his father, he didn't think his mother was interested in having sex with him or with anyone in the way that he was interested in having sex with her. In the way that many sons are sexually attracted to their mothers, he didn't think that his mother was sexually attracted to him.

Just once, he'd love to get her drunk and have his wicked, sexual way with her. Just once, he loved to stick his cock in her hand before sticking his cock in her mouth and before burying his prick in her pussy. Only, his mother didn't give blowjobs. Just once he'd love to kiss her and French kiss her while stripping her naked and feeling her naked body before having incestuous sex with her. Only, as far as he knew, his mother hadn't had sex in more than a dozen years.

He'd be surprised if she even gave hand jobs. So sad and so sexually frustrating for him, he definitely knew that his mother didn't give blowjobs. An issue with his father, he overheard them arguing more than once about her not sucking his cock. Still, a sexual fantasy that he enjoyed having, he wondered if his mother masturbated and if she did, if she masturbated over him in the way that he masturbated over her. Probably not, he didn't think someone who was as sexless as she was would masturbate especially over him, her own son.

Nonetheless his mother not sucking cock, he still wished he could see her naked. He still wished he could have sex with her. He needed to think of a way to see his mother naked. He needed to think of a way how to have sex with his mother. He needed to think of a way to seduce his mother. Only, shocking the shit out of him, she beat him to the punch.

Chapter 06:

Emma looked at her son with sadness. As if wanting his approval, she gave him that same pitiful look she gave him when she wanted to confess and confide in him over something she did that she shouldn't have done or something she bought that she shouldn't have bought. Not that she did anything wrong or spent all of her money on clothes or on shoes. If she was anything, she was a saint. She was the Mother Theresa of mothers.

Then, as if he was her husband or her boyfriend instead of her son, and as if she answered to him, only to him, she gave him a curious look that his mother had never given him before. When she looked at him in that way, he wanted to hold her, hug her, and tell her that he loved her and everything would be okay. When she looked at him in that sexy yet vulnerable way, he wanted to strip her naked and have his sexual way with her naked body.

She looked so frightened. She looked so vulnerable. She looked so emotionally exposed. As if she was a wounded animal, she looked so hurt. As if someone had just clipped her wings, she looked like a broken bird who could no longer fly. She looked more like a caged animal than she looked like the free and beautiful spirit that she was as his loving mother.

As if seeing the real her for the first time and as if he was suddenly more connected to her, he could feel her pain. With him not knowing she had been sexually abused as an 18-year-old woman by the man in the woods, she suddenly looked like the sexually abused woman that she obviously was. Having never seen his mother looking so weak and acting so helplessly exposed, especially with her clothes a wrinkled mess, he wondered what was wrong. He wondered what had happened for her to have so suddenly changed enough to bring the obvious emotional pain she had suffered to the surface. Something she always no doubt felt but that she was always able to keep hidden below the surface, was exposed now.

"Obviously by my disheveled appearance, my date wanted more than just a goodnight kiss," she said with a sad, little laugh while looking down at the carpet with shame. "I felt as if I was in a wrestling match. He wanted so much more than just to kiss me goodnight," she said with difficulty and without making eye contact with her son. She paused before stating the real issue. "He wanted sex."

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Now, after her son had been leering at all that she was unintentionally showing him when she walked through the front door, he surprised her by being home on a Saturday night. In the way he was ogling her, she seemed doubly, self-consciously aware. The first time seeing as much of his mother, Michael couldn't believe how much of his mother's sexy and shapely body that he was seeing. If he didn't know his mother didn't drink, he'd think she had been drinking.

As if unable to walk any further, she sat in a chair in the front foyer. With her legs tightly crossed enough to put her foot behind her ankle and her arms tightly folded across her breasts, she tied herself in a knot of anxiety. After Emma had been sexually mauled by her internet, blind date, Vincent, she was a mess. With her son, Michael, staring at her and hovering over her, she briefly unknotted her arms to pull up the front of her blouse again to deny her son any more peeks of her errant cleavage and the top of her low cut bra.

Then, carefully uncrossing her legs to not expose any more of herself to her son, she brushed down her skirt again to deny him from seeing any unintentional up skirt peeks of her shapely thighs and/or of her panties. Obviously embarrassed that she had already shown her son so much, too much of her body, she had shown him more of her sexy body than she had ever shown him before. Now, seemingly ashamed, and as if he was one of her sexual abusers, she avoided making eye contact with him.

Instead of looking up at him staring down at her, fidgeting with her fingers, she looked down at her hands. Definitely upset, she looked nervous. She looked perplexed. She looked as if she was going to cry. With her obviously filled with consternation, never had he seen his mother looking so troubled. Obviously with more to this story than she had already told him, he wondered what else had happened on her date.

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"Tell me, Mother," he said with the concern that only a loving son could have for his mother. "What happened?" When she seemed reluctant to speak, he pressured her. "Please don't hold anything back. Tell me everything."

Now along with her looking nervous, perplex, and troubled in her shaken demeanor, she looked as embarrassed again as she looked ashamed. Obviously, this Vincent guy did something sexual to his mother. He remained silent while waiting for her to answer him. As if he was her father and she was his daughter, she looked at him timidly as if afraid to tell him. Then, she spoke finally.

"When he kissed me goodnight, he felt my breasts and fingered my nipples through my blouse and bra," she said falling silent again.

Obviously, as if she was a virgin instead of his mother, and with her ex-husband the only man she had sexually known, she was embarrassed. Obviously, she didn't want to tell Michael what happened. Obviously, with her returning home much earlier than expect, barely 10:00 pm, whatever more happened upset her enough for her to prematurely end her date. Normally with him staying overnight at Ginger's, glad that she didn't have to come home alone, he was glad that he was here for her.

'So? What's the big deal? Her date felt his mother's tits,' he thought. 'Who wouldn't? She had a great rack.'

Only not paying any mind to Vincent sexually assaulting his mother, her son wished it was him kissing his mother. He wished it was him feeling her breasts and fingering her nipples through her blouse and bra. He wished it was him having sex with his mother.

"Oh," he said not wanting to pressure her to talk if she didn't want to tell him all that happened.

Instead of interrogating her, he waited for her to speak again and to volunteer more of what happened on her date. He gave her the time and the space she needed to slowly unwind and open up about her traumatic experience enough to tell him all that happened.

"It had been a long time since anyone had touched and felt me in such a sexual way. Your father was the only man who touched me in that way," she said lying by not telling her son about the man in the woods who nearly raped her.

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She had never told anyone what happened to her when she was an 18-year-old high school senior, not her father back then, nor her husband later, and especially not her son now. She didn't tell anyone that a strange man came from out of nowhere and came up behind her while she was cutting through the woods on her way home from school. She had never told anyone that a man touched and felt her where she had never been touched and felt before. She didn't tell anyone that he not only forced her to expose her to him but also exposed himself to her too.

Warned not to cut through the woods but not told why and that women had been raped, she felt so stupid not to heed her father's warnings. Perhaps had she known cutting through the woods was that dangerous, she would have obeyed her father's warnings. She more thought that he was warning her about a four-legged predator instead of a two-legged one. Only, in a hurry to get home, she didn't think cutting through the woods just this one time was such a big deal. Changing her forever in how she viewed men and regarded sex, living as if a nun in a convent, she blamed herself for what happened and kept her secret for thirty years, until now.

"I had been sexually assaulted thirty-years ago when I was an 18-year-old virgin. What happened tonight with Vincent reminded me of that day. Just as I fought off my attempted rapist then, I fought off my attempted rapist tonight," she said looking emotionally drained.

Grabbing her around her throat and holding her in place, the man in the woods lifted her skirt to her waist and pulled down her panties in the way that Vincent had tried to do. Again, she was reminded of what violently happened so long ago by what sexually happened again tonight. Just as Vincent fingered her through her panties, the man in the woods felt her naked ass before sliding a slow hand between her legs. With her still a virgin, in the way that Vincent did in his car, he stuck his fingers inside of her with one hand while feeling her big breasts and fingering her nipples with his other hand.

Too afraid to scream, even though she was scared to death, she felt like the wicked whore that she wasn't when he rubbed her clit and fingered her pussy long enough to make her wet. On the verge of having a sexual orgasm, she remembered being so wet, wetter than she had ever been. She didn't tell anyone that a strange man lifted her top along with her bra and fondled her naked breasts while fingering her nipples. With him masturbating her, she didn't tell anyone that a strange man tried to rape her. With her feeling guilty about having normal, sexual feelings when having abnormal and immoral sex, she didn't tell anyone that the man had sexually excited her enough to for her to want to have sex with him.

In the way that he took her by surprise and forced himself on her, if she wasn't so scared, she may have sucked him and fucked him. In the way he was determined to have his sexual way with her virginal body, if she wasn't so scared, she may have surprised herself and done whatever he sexually wanted her to do. Only, the end result of what emotionally scarred her for thirty years, her fear of being raped forever truncated her normal sexual feelings. That one violent event turned something off inside of her. Now, instead of having a normal reaction to giving a man she loved oral sex, she had an abnormal reaction against sucking anyone.

No doubt the reason why she doesn't give blowjobs even to this day, she had never told anyone about the man in the woods who forced his prick in her mouth. In the way that Vincent had tried to force her to blow him tonight, she didn't tell anyone about the man in the woods who tried to force her to blow him too. In the way that Vincent touched, felt, fondled, and groped her everywhere tonight, the man in the woods touched, felt, fondled, and groped her everywhere too.

Her husband left her with that same level of fear of being forced long before they were married. In the way that the man in the woods stuck his cock in her mouth, her husband violated her by sticking his prick in her mouth on their Prom night, again on their Honeymoon night, and all through their marriage. With her self-preservation kicking in, just as she was able to fight off the man in the woods, she fought off her husband too. Obviously, after being so sexually violated at such a young age, she should have sought psychological help but she didn't.

With the man in the woods starting her down this road of being a sexually killjoy, Vincent wasn't the only man who had tried to force her to blow him. Only, something happened to her in Vincent's car that happened in the woods. She experienced a flood of confusing and conflicting emotions. In the way she was frightened when the man in the woods and when Vincent grabbed her and forced her, she was sexually excited too. Only, in the way that her sexual emotions were severed back then, as if Vincent turned on her switch that had been turned off for so many years, she now had normal sexual feelings, especially for her son.

In the way she didn't want to suck anyone, not the man in the woods, not her prom date who later became her husband, not her husband, and certainly not Vincent, she now wanted to suck her son. Only, those incestuous feelings wouldn't be known to her and wouldn't come to the surface until after she loosened her inhibitions with a couple of stiff drinks. Something turned on inside of her that turned off before. It took a second violent act to reverse the result of the first violent act.

Unbeknownst to her and unbeknownst to her son, once the modestly, moral mother, as if being bitten by a sexual predator, she had suddenly turned into the immodestly, immoral mother. How can any woman go from being a loving mother to suddenly becoming an incestuous whore? Yet, what triggered her sexual prudishness for her husband before triggered her sexual proclivity for her son now. Only, still unaware of what was brewing inside of her, soon she'd sexually and incestuously want her son as much as he sexually and incestuously wanted her. Before this night ended, mother and son would be having sex.

Not knowing the reason why his mother was such a sexual prude, had he known what had happened to his mother so very long ago, he would have understood why she didn't suck cock. Instead, wrapped up in all that she was suddenly confessed to him, Michael imagined kissing his mother goodnight. Wishing he was her date instead of him being her son, he imagined French kissing her while feeling her breasts and nipples through her blouse and bra. If only he knew his mother had been injected with sexual lust for her son tonight, wouldn't he be surprised. If only he knew his mother wanted to suck his cock in the way that he wanted to lick her pussy, he'd be shocked.

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"That bastard," said Michael telling his mother what he thought she wanted to hear.

Only, instead of feeling anger, he felt sexual excitement that Vincent felt his mother's breasts and fingered her nipples through her blouse and bra while kissing her. He just hoped that she'd tell him more of what happened on her date. If for nothing more than material for masturbation tonight and tomorrow morning while thinking of touching, feeling, and seeing his mother's naked body while having sex with her, he wanted to hear every sordid detail.

"Not satisfied with feeling my breasts and fingering my nipples through my clothes, he stuck his hand down my blouse and felt my breasts and fingered my nipples through my bra." With her modesty and morals giving way to her erupting, sexual emotions causing her to become an incestuous whore, she looked at her son for his reaction to Vincent sticking his hand down her blouse. "Then, he stuck his hand inside of my bra to feel my naked breasts while fingering my naked nipples," she said pausing to look at her son with obvious shame and embarrassment before looking at him with obvious sexual excitement.